The Devil's Aria
by Felicity Dream
Summary: When Jason Voorhees was a little boy, there was one counselor who cared and tried to save him. She'd failed but the memory of her was branded into his mind, alongside that of his mother's. Years later, he meets her great grandchild with her looks. Hiatus.
1. In My Time of Need

Disclaimer: I don't own Jason Voorhees or any Friday the 13th content. I do own Blake and Henrietta.  
Story: When Jason Voorhees was a little boy, there was one counselor who cared and tried to save him. She'd failed but the memory of her was branded into his mind, alongside that of his mother's. Years later, he meets her great grandchild with her looks, and finds a second chance along with her.  
Set after Freddy vs. Jason.  
Spoilers: Um…from all 12 films, I guess. Even the new one.  
Warnings: Violence, language, etc.  
Pairings: Jason/Blake (OC)  
A/n: Done so I could write it as realistically and as un-Mary-Suish as possible. Also, this Jason is based on Victor Miller's original decision to have Jason look like a normal child, only mentally handicapped. My Jason isn't mentally handicapped, but he isn't overly deformed. He'll look normal, except for some kind of small defect. Chosen because I wanted Jason to be this way and because I wanted to write kids being cruel over small things that they easily exaggerate over.  
Not really edited.

**The Devil's Aria  
**_Chapter One: In My Time of Need_

"_Hey, freak!"_

"_Over here, retard!"_

"_Oh my god! Look at his __**face**__!"_

_He was so confused. They kept pushing him around and shoving him into the others. They kept jeering and laughing at him. He could feel the tears dripping down his one good eye. _

_Why? He didn't understand why they were so mean to him. Where were the grownups? The counselors? Where was his mother?_

_One more hard shove and he fell into the water. _

_The water was rapidly filling his lungs. He tried to stay afloat, but he kept panicking and the water was dragging him down. He stayed above water before going down again, and the other kids were still laughing. _

_Couldn't they see he was going to __**die**__? _

_His last image was seeing an angel run towards him, a panicked look on her gorgeous face as her long, silvery hair fanned behind her. As he blacked out, the woman dived in and swam towards him, holding onto him as she swam back to the surface. _

_Calming herself, she laid his body flat on the wooden docks and began to perform CPR. The terrified mother finally reached them, but she focused on giving Jason Voorhees mouth to mouth. After breathing into his mouth and compressing his chest for at least thirty minutes, in which everyone had gone quiet except for a couple of sniffles and crying among the children and the outright sobbing of Pamela Voorhees, she felt the stress of the moment catch up to her. Her heart clenched and her head felt like it was being squeezed. She stopped performing CPR and collapsed next to the dead body of Jason, bringing a new round of horrified yells and screaming. _

_Blair Williams, age 22, was supposed to retire as a counselor from Camp Crystal Lake because of how susceptible she was to heart palpitations. Suffering a stroke after so much stress, Blair fell into a deep coma._

It was many years later. Blair's fiancé, desperate to have something of her (other than having took on her name as his own since they couldn't marry), took her eggs and implanted them in another woman, using his sperm to have a child born from him and Blair. He was able to have Blair's twins, taking care of them by himself until they were well into their twenties. By then, Blair was still unresponsive and he had to make the choice to pull the plug. One of his girls had children, making him and Blair grandparents.

The last image he had in his mind when he died was of his only great grandchild, Blake Williams who had the features of his long lost love.

* * *

Blake Williams had just recently turned sixteen on June 13, 2008. She wasn't only an only child, but also a child of the state. Her mother and father died from a car crash, and no one else was willing to take care of her. Now she lived in her great grandmother's home on the cliff, overlooking Camp Crystal Lake.

She sighed heavily, as she stared out into the water below her. Not only had she inherited Blair's home, but she'd also inherited her great grandmother's rare looks. She had her silvery hair, her pale skin, her narrow face and petite figure, and her abnormal bicolored eyes. One eye was amber gold and the other pale grey. The only thing that made her look different from her great grandmother was cutting her hair short and letting it spike out, especially around her face.

Some would ask her if she was worried about living so close to Camp Blood, but she honestly wasn't. She lived there for most of her life, and she hadn't been bothered once by Jason Voorhees. She lived a quiet life, undisturbed by campers and Jason alike. The only places she goes to are the town and her home, and her only companion was the baby vixen that lived with her.

"Henrietta," she called out softly, waiting for the little fox to scuttle into the room.

Henrietta came and began chowing down on the food Blake left out for her. Blake began eating as well, writing equations down for school. She scrunched her face up. Just because she lived alone and was a child of the state unfortunately didn't mean she could skimp out on school.

She began drawing on the side, knowing the teachers didn't mind any more since they were used to her doodling something. She hadn't meant to, but she began drawing her version of Jason. Idly, she thought he wasn't really dead. They keep killing him, or at least thinking they did, and he just kept coming back. Last she heard, after the FBI set up that sting and then Jason's niece sent him to Hell, Freddy Krueger brought Jason back to life.

She wasn't surprised to hear the murders around Crystal Lake had started up again.

"When will people learn, 'Etta?" Blake murmured to her fox, gathering their plates and putting them into the sink. She set up a bowl of milk for the baby vixen before beginning to wash the dishes.

Henrietta didn't answer her, focused on lapping up the milk.

Blake hummed to herself, singing to a song she couldn't get out of her head.

"_Sparkling angel  
__I believe  
__You were my savior,  
__In my time of need_

_"Blinded by faith,  
__I couldn't hear  
__All the whispers,  
__The warnings so clear_

_"I see the angels  
__I'll lead them to your door  
__There's no escape now  
__No mercy, no more  
__No remorse 'cause I still remember…"_

Blake hummed the rest, Henrietta trotting after her as she started getting ready for bed. Unfortunately for her, she didn't notice the dark figure stalking around her house, peering through the windows and listening in on her.

She did, however, notice waking up late. She woke up half an hour later than she usually woke up, groggily realizing that school was in another thirty minutes. She flashed through her usual routine before running out the door and onto her new motorcycle.

School was rather dull and it went by rather fast. Unsurprisingly, there was a group of people that had recently gone missing, and were no doubt dead. Mostly, Blake focused on getting through the day without having to snap at everyone who whimpered or screeched at every little thing, claiming the problem was Jason.

She had no idea she would sort of become one of those people.

Blake entered her home quietly, not at all expecting her surprised visitor. She'd already set down her backpack by the door before she looked up and noticed the huge, hulking figure standing in the middle of her living room. At 6'5 1/2", Blake thought Jason Voorhees really lived up to his reputation.

Her scream was locked in her throat and she knew if she ran, he would easily catch up despite his size. So she stood still and closed her eyes, waiting for his next move.

She flinched when she heard the heavy thud of his footsteps coming closer. His breathing was harsh, but slow and steady. She immediately knew when she'd been cornered. She could feel his dark presence weighing over her. And then the tip of his machete was under her chin, lifting it up and barely missing her throat. After a minute had passed, she braved it and opened her eyes.

Jason was in front of her, his blue right eye staring intensely at her, while the other was closed shut. The hockey mask he wore covered most of his face, totally worn from use and from the usual wear and tear the killer usually put it through.

She was startled when he yanked her forward, machete narrowly avoiding piercing her throat, and slammed the door. He suddenly let her go, making her fall backwards to the floor and on her butt. The giant of a man stalked back to her living room, setting down his machete onto the floor and sitting down on her mahogany settee. He watched her steadily and she slowly moved to sit as far away from him as possible.

"Are you going to kill me?" Blake asked, trembling all over.

Jason said nothing, so she hesitantly took that as a no.

"Um, you –you want to stay here?" she hazarded a guess.

Jason stayed silent, tilting his head, but he made sure to get more comfortable to give her a clear sign. She narrowed her eyes. Everything about this man wasn't all about brute force or strength. Blake could see it now, after that little gesture. Jason wasn't just some big, unstoppable brute. He wasn't stupid. He was highly intelligent, and she could see the calculation in his eye. She'd heard some of the stories of how he killed. How else could he stalk –hunt down those people, without some cunning? He didn't come at them full frontal all the time. Sometimes he waited for an opportune moment…

"O-okay then. I'm just going…to do my homework."

After another silent response, she walked more comfortably to her backpack and brought it with her to the kitchen table. She began on her work, uncomfortably aware of the stare directed at her.

She was tempted to whimper.

Henrietta suddenly trotted into the room and Blake froze up, glancing between her fox and the masked killer behind her. Jason stiffened up, but made no other move than that. She anxiously called out to her pet.

"'Etta, come here…"

However, the baby vixen scampered curiously over to Jason. She sniffed him and then curled around his feet. When Jason reached out, Blake tensed and got ready to leap forward. To her surprise, Jason started petting the fox instead. Forcing herself to relax, she determinedly focused on her work.

When she finally got into it, time passed and she definitely didn't notice Jason standing behind her, holding the fox and staring over her shoulder. She leaned back when she was finished, her head thumping against something hard. Letting out a gasp, she turned slowly and saw Jason right behind her.

"Um, hi."

He grunted, and the noise that came out of him startled her. He was usually so quiet.

"Henrietta and I need to eat so…" she was dumbfounded when Jason set the fox down and began preparing her fox's food like she does it, as if he had done it his entire life. She began preparing her own food, letting Jason take care of Henrietta for now while keeping a wary eye on him.

Her nerves were practically shot by this entire encounter. Who could blame her? She had a masked serial killer, and not just any killer –the infamous Jason Voorhees at that! –wanting to be housed in her home.

She was surprised she was still alive.

* * *

Blake woke up the next morning, confused and not in the least bit rested. It was a Saturday, so she'd decided she could take Henrietta out for a walk, careful not to stray too close to Camp Crystal Lake.

She gasped.

Throwing off the covers, she ran from her room to the living room. Sure enough, there he was, a silent statue sitting on her settee and watching out her window.

He twitched at her entrance, the only sign she knew he knew she was there, but he didn't move otherwise.

"Good…good morning," she muttered, feeling herself go into shock again. Henrietta was already eating by his side, so Blake decided to settle for cereal. She ate at the table, facing him this time so she could watch him for any sudden or warning movements.

"I was going to take a walk with Henrietta today," she muttered, unsure if he'd even hear her. Apparently he had because he quickly stood up and strode to the door, setting himself in front of it.

"Uh, you don't want us to go?"

Jason shook his head.

"Do you…want to come…with us?"

Jason nodded, grabbing his machete from where it was leaning next to the door, and then strapping it to his belt.

"Let me just get ready then. You know…take a shower, change clothes, that kind of thing?"

He just stared at her so she shrugged and left for home.

"Whatever you say," she muttered.

Then again, he wasn't saying anything.

Started 2/24/09 -Completed 3/7/09


	2. The Destroying Angel

Disclaimer: I don't own Jason Voorhees or any Friday the 13th content. I do own Blake and Henrietta.  
Story: When Jason Voorhees was a little boy, there was one counselor who cared and tried to save him. She'd failed but the memory of her was branded into his mind, alongside that of his mother's. Years later, he meets her great grandchild with her looks, and finds a second chance along with her.  
Set after Freddy vs. Jason.  
Spoilers: Um…from all 12 films, I guess. Even the new one.  
Warnings: Violence, language, etc.  
Pairings: Jason/Blake (OC)  
A/n: To rosie: thanks! I'm glad you love it already. I'm flattered you think Blake is one of the best characters you've seen. I'm trying. I really do hope I'm making her likable, as I have a love/hate relationship with OCs. Sometimes I'm okay with them and sometimes I'm not. It mostly depends on the OC and the fandom. I've especially made an exception for the Friday the 13th, as I can't see a canon female with Jason unless it's Lori from Freddy vs. Jason. If anyone wants to write one for me...(hinthint)

**The Devil's Aria  
**_Chapter Two: The Destroying Angel_

They were walking through the foliage, and oddly enough Blake ended up following Jason. She tried to hide her unease when she noticed they were heading towards Camp Crystal Lake, and Jason pointed towards the lake and then to her and the baby vixen.

"Can I take Henrietta around the lake?" she figured was what he was letting her do.

He nodded and walked off, leaving her alone with her pet. Even with him gone, his presence weighed heavily over her. He may not be physically next to her, but Blake had the feeling that Jason was aware of her all the time.

"Come on, 'Etta," she ushered the fox along, knowing it was probably futile to run away and it would just aggravate him. Where would she run to anyway? He knew where she lived and probably had been stalking her for awhile, so he knew even just the vaguest hint of where she might go. Not that she really had anyone or anywhere to go to.

Then again, he'd probably catch up to her before she could even set foot outside of the camp.

"What are we going to do?" she asked her pet as she sat at the edge of the lake, staring into its depths.

Henrietta just licked her paws, staring curiously at the water. She experimentally dipped her paw into the wetness before deciding to play with the water and started splashing one paw into it again and again.

Blake sighed heavily. "That was very informative, girl."

She froze when she heard a scream. She got up from her perch and started running towards it, Henrietta abandoning her game and running after her. Blake made it in time just to see Jason decapitate a teenage girl, blood flying across and splattering all over her.

The accumulation of all the emotions she'd been harboring ever since the beginning of this strange nightmare rushed all at once at her, and she began sobbing hysterically, hammering at the giant's back. It was stupid to let her emotions get the best of her, she realized, especially against someone like Jason Voorhees.

He'd whipped around so fast; she didn't realize he was capable of that kind of speed with his size. And now she was paying for it as one of his large hands gripped the slender column of her throat, pulling her into the air and choking her. She really was stupid to think that just because he'd spared her life so far that she could get away with trying to boss him around.

His one blue eye glared at her as she was pulled upwards at level at it. Tears gathered at her eyes and both of her hands were desperately clutching onto the hand gripping her throat. Henrietta was yipping and jumping from underneath her.

"Please," she gasped out.

Even through her panic, she felt surprise when his grip slightly loosened and his other hand came up, tracing a line down from her eye (incidentally wiping her tears), across her lips, and down her chin to one end of her jaw line to the other. She saw the look in his eye softened and then become intense, as he lightly brushed his fingers up her cheek and to her hair, taking a silvery strand and fingering it, all of his focus on it.

Suddenly, he dropped her to the ground. She lay in a heap, gasping for breath and softly holding her throat. That was definitely going to bruise, she knew. She probably would have to wear something to cover it when she went back to school.

Shivering in fright, she crawled before forcing herself to stand and follow after him.

They were back in her home before she got the nerve to say anything.

"You knew my great grandmother, didn't you?" she questioned him softly. He had been so intent on her looks…

Jason just silently pointed at the one picture of her great grandmother she had on the mantelpiece of her fireplace.

For once in Blake's life, she was actually grateful that she looked so much like Blair. She was always compared to her great grandmother because of their shared looks, and she couldn't tell how sick she was of people saying how much she looked like Blair. But now, she was really grateful for it, especially since the fact it literally saved her life and kept her mostly safe from Jason's wrath.

"I'm sorry, but you can't just kill people."

He glared at her, so she amended that. "Just…don't kill them when I'm around."

Jason nodded and picked Henrietta up, settling into his usual seat and petting the fox on his lap. It was a very odd scene, one that Blake didn't know if she should laugh at or cry. Knowing her in the state she was in right then, she'd probably end up in a mix between the two, probably crying tears and laughing in a hysterical fashion.

* * *

Sunday went by quickly, with Blake vacantly spending the entire day in bed crying softly and huddled under her blankets. Jason didn't bother her at all, though she heard her front door open every hour or so. She assumed that was him checking out his territory for intruders.

When Monday came, she realized she'd have to get up and go to school. She flung the covers off of her to the foot of her bed, getting the scare of her life when she saw Jason standing in the corner of her room, just watching her.

"I-I have to go to school," she stuttered out squeakily, holding a thin sheet to her chest for at least some barrier to use against him. Though, it was most definitely useless, it offered some measure of comfort to her distraught mind.

Jason tilted his head, so she snatched up any clothing she could find and quickly bolted to the bathroom.

She was hoping she could finally breathe an air of relief once she was at school, hoping the distance between them could calm her down. Blake was never more wrong as she sat in home room, staring out the window and seeing Jason peering into the room. No one else was watching the windows like she was, seeing Jason observing her coolly.

All through classes, she couldn't concentrate at all on the lessons. Not with him staring at her through the windows. It was her luck that all of her classes were ground floor and had windows. At lunch, she sat under her usual tree to eat, highly aware of him hiding behind it and her and still watching her. The worse came that afternoon, after school.

She was walking to her motorcycle, when the school's only "gang" came up on her. Usually, she wasn't noticed and she was generally left alone, but she finally caught the gang's eye.

"Hey, pretty baby! Come on over," one of them whistled.

She winced and tried to ignore them, but that only served to provoke them. Several of them strode towards her menacingly, leering in a disgusting fashion. She looked at them disbelieving, mind calculating what was better: flight or fight. She really shouldn't be afraid of them after her experiences with the Camp Blood Killer, and she did have some mild training in tai kwon do.

Deciding they weren't worth her time, she kicked back the kickstand on her bike and was about to start it when one of the idiots took out a gun and aimed it at her. Damn, her luck really was bad.

"Hey, bitch. We were talking to you," he sneered.

The others looked warily at their comrade, one of them speaking out. "Hey man, what's up with the gun? Just put that thing away."

But it was too late and they in turn provoked Jason Voorhees by attacking the one girl he was protective over.

Jason stormed out of hiding, scaring the hell out of everyone in the parking lot. Blake paled, not knowing how to react to the new addition to the situation. She watched in shock as Jason advanced towards the idiot with the gun, oblivious to the mass panic and chaos his presence induced. The gun went off several times, hitting Jason in the chest, but not slowing the giant down. Instead, he seemed to speed up.

The gun was dropped and the one holding it tried to run away. Unfortunately for him, Jason was already within arms' reach, grabbing his skull and twisting it off. The screams became louder.

Blake stared in horror at Jason and the body that fell uselessly to the ground, still seeing the head gripped in one of his hands. Her body was screaming at her to faint, but she ignored it and just ran. She just ran and ran until she was far away from the school, and even then she kept running until she reached her home. Exhausted but hysterical, she locked all her doors and grabbed Henrietta. She hid in her bathroom with her fox, wondering when Jason would come to get her next.

She can't believe she panicked enough to forget to run away on her bike. Then again, it was harder to dodge riding it.

When some time passed and nothing happened, she tiptoed out and went to the nearest window. She started hyperventilating when she saw her bike parked right outside the house, and then she heard something being knocked over. She walked silently to the living room, and there he was, sitting in what she was going to assume was the seat he claimed –the settee. He stared at her and she stared back. When he abruptly got up, she took that as her cue to start running.

On the way, she scooped Henrietta up and they went straight back to the bathroom.

The terrible thumps of his footsteps echoed to her hiding place, and she clutched her fox to her chest. The doorknob jiggled before it broke off and the door was pushed open. In the doorway, he stood silently, watching her again. Then he strode over to her, pulling her up and then carried her bridal style to her room. She yelped and Henrietta wiggled out of her arms and jumped nimbly to the floor, disappearing from her view.

In her room, Jason set her upright on the edge of her bed and then sat next to her, leaning on her heavily. She felt like she was going to buckle under the weight of his body. In fact, she was sitting stiff already. She wanted to grow stiffer when his arms settled themselves around her waist and his head leaned on her shoulder. When it was obvious that he wasn't going to leave, she slumped forward and resigned herself. Hesitantly moving her arms, she wrapped them around him and they just sat on her bed until it was dinnertime.

"I'm hungry, Jason. I have to eat," she murmured. He only tightened his arms once before they reluctantly unwound from her and he sat up. He acted like a wounded puppy, sitting next to her. She sighed and gave him a one-armed hug.

"I'll be back."

She left him there and went to her kitchen, fixing up two sandwiches. She ate them quickly, eying her fox grumpily when Henrietta trotted into the kitchen and waited to be fed. She finished off her first sandwich and set up Henrietta's dish. When she started in on her second sandwich, her mind began to wander and she thought about what Jason was doing now. Was he still upstairs in her room? She hadn't even heard anything for awhile…

She polished off her food and washed her hands, heading upstairs and seeing Jason still sitting on her bed. He sat up straight when he noticed her at the door and she faltered at his stare. Deciding to ignore it as best she could, she grabbed her pajamas and then went to the bathroom to change. She went straight to her bed, turning off the fan light and turning on her bedside lamp, sitting up against the backboard and reaching for the book she was reading.

Blake almost had a heart attack when Jason scooted closer and lay his head down on her lap, as he laid down sideways. She tentatively moved her hand and laid it onto his head, ignoring the slimy feel of it.

"Would you like me to read to you?" she asked apprehensively.

Jason nodded on her lap so began to read. She got so into the story that she didn't notice she'd begun to stroke his head, but figured since he hadn't done anything that it was okay. She'd just finished the sixth chapter when she began feeling sleepy and noticed he'd fallen asleep.

"What do you want from me?" she said out loud, frustrated.

She put aside her book and turned off her lamp, trying to scoot down onto the bed and pushing Jason down as well so she could lie on her back.

Blake missed the slight opening of Jason's eye in the darkness as she tried to fall asleep.

Started 3/9/09 –Completed 3/11/09


	3. And the Devil Went Down to Georgia

Disclaimer: I don't own Jason Voorhees or any Friday the 13th content. I do own Blake and Henrietta.  
Story: When Jason Voorhees was a little boy, there was one counselor who cared and tried to save him. She'd failed but the memory of her was branded into his mind, alongside that of his mother's. Years later, he meets her great grandchild with her looks, and finds a second chance along with her.  
Set after Freddy vs. Jason.  
Spoilers: Um…from all 12 films, I guess. Even the new one.  
Warnings: Violence, language, etc.  
Pairings: Jason/Blake (OC)

A/n: Thanks all so much to everyone who reviewed! I know it's been a long time since I've updated this, but I haven't really had much motivation or inspiration for it. I'm so sorry! Please enjoy this!

**The Devil's Aria  
**_Chapter Three: And the Devil Went Down to Georgia_

'_Find her, Jason. Find her.'_

He stalked through the foliage, glimpsing a small female walking along with a fox, in a rare moment the girl had actually trekked a little too close to Camp Crystal Lake. He raised his machete when he saw the flash of silver hair and stopped.

_Silvery, flowing hair._

_An angel._

He rested the machete by his side and began following the girl, watching as she and her fox walked around the forest, sometimes stopping to play. He followed her back to her home, a place he was actually surprised he'd missed seeing, considering how out of the way and close to his home it was.

He watched outside her house as she cleaned up, watched her and her fox eat dinner, and listened to her hum and sing a beautiful song. She left the next day, and he broke into her home through the back. He waited until she came home, and knew from the first moment he saw her clearly that things were going to change.

She had the exact look of his angel, with shorter hair.

'_Stay with her, Jason. Stay by her side.'_

He'd already lost his temper with her once, but he'd managed to stop himself at the sight of her gasping and seeing her silvery hair falling into her eyes.

'_Carve yourself. Peel your very skin and be reborn.'_

As she slept after he'd stalked her at school and then fell asleep by her side, he'd awoken in the night and gone to her bathroom. There, he sat in the middle of the tub, his naked corpse lax as he used his machete to "shave" off his skin. Black ooze and blood seeped out in rivulets and then in streams. He continued until he'd carved off everything and he'd waited.

He knew he was a special boy. His mother had told him so time and again, and even he'd noticed his regenerative abilities. Before he'd drowned, he looked normal with only a scar running down his left eye. After he'd drowned, he'd spent a long time just in stasis in the water before he'd gone back to the surface. There, he'd lived in the wild, surviving however he could by himself, honing his hunting, tracking, and killing skills. Living in the wild affected the way he looked, never washing and letting grime and dirt build up. His brown hair turned stringy, his teeth rotted, and his eyes turned bloodshot. In fact, his eyes hadn't returned to normal until Krueger shoved his finger knives in them and they'd regenerated later. Some parts took longer to regenerate, like his fingers that were cut off.

Hours passed and he felt his body change, still bleeding black and red. He turned on the water and let it run over him, the water stinging red muscle and tissue, and then renewed pinkish skin.

When he stood in front of the mirror, bare and fresh, he saw himself reborn as his mother had said he would. Pink soft skin covered his body, unscarred and unblemished except for the blasted scar running down his left eye. His eyes were the baby blues his mother had adored, though one eye was shut close from the scar.

He left the house, only to return an hour later covered in blood and new clothing in a bag. Taking another shower, he put on the new clothes and awaited the girl's wake.

* * *

Blake wearily opened her eyes, feeling as if she hadn't gone to sleep at all. When she realized Jason wasn't with her, she wasn't sure if she should feel relieved that he was gone or worried about where he was.

Hesitantly tip toeing out, she made her way downstairs to her living room and her eyes bugged out at the sight. In what had become Jason's usual spot, an unfamiliar man sat there, brown hair hanging wildly around his face and baby blues that stared at her unflinchingly with one eye shut close and a scar running down it.

Screeching, she grabbed the phone book near her and waved it around the air.

"Who the hell are you?! I warn you! _The_ Jason Voorhees has been hanging around here. He'll kill you!"

An amused look ran through his face before it became unreadable once more and she waved the phone book threateningly at him.

"I mean it!"

When he still didn't react or say anything, she looked closer and frowned. Her eyes widening, she gaped when she realized the truth.

"J-Jason?"

He nodded at her.

"Oh my God," she muttered to herself. "Okay…okay…um, I'm going to feed Henrietta now."

Too weirded out, she just went about her daily morning tasks. She set up her fox's food, started boiling some water so she could cook ramen for breakfast, and then put away the dishes from the night before. Doing some extra little things, she started cooking her food once the water was boiling.

"We should get you a haircut. Your hair is long and would get in the way. Just…you know…instead of it being as long as it is, we could get it cut midway to your cheeks. Okay?" she said in small talk, without looking at him. She didn't think she could talk if she did.

He was silent, but she took his silence as acquiesce.

"And clothes. Um, where did you get those clothes anyway?"

She could guess where.

Or rather what he did.

"Well, you need more clothes. And I need to go grocery shopping because I'm out of food for the week, and I'm assuming you eat as well. Uh, you do eat, right?"

Silence answered her once more.

She didn't say anything more after that. She just got ready, ate, took a shower, dressed and set out after making sure Henrietta was safely tucked away in her house. She already knew Jason was going to follow.

Sure enough, she hadn't even gone that far when he was suddenly beside her, walking like a silent gargoyle with no expression and no words.

Blake didn't have a car, just her lone motorcycle that he'd…graciously…brought back for her. Climbing onto it, she jerked her head behind her and was glad that he easily got the hint, though she was surprised he understood what she had silently asked. Maybe there had been teens with motorcycles over at Crystal Lake and he'd seen them riding on one before he'd killed them.

Barely fitting, with him taking all the space and she having to sit slightly on his lap (though she was glad she was so small that she would be able to fit on it at all), she kicked back the kickstand and started the motor. It wasn't long until she was driving them to town, her nervous about bringing Jason Voorhees, though looking different and more human, to a small community filled with people who were deathly afraid of him.

And even if he looked more human, he _was_ still Jason Voorhees and a known killer. And with that, she worried how _he_ would react around the town. He'd viciously killed someone already in plain view at her school. Just because he looked different didn't change anything at all.

She parked in front of Frank's Barbershop, pausing to address Jason, only chancing a sideways glance.

"You can't kill anyone, alright? Just…please. I don't want to get caught up in it. Not again."

He didn't answer, as per usual, but she hoped that meant he wouldn't.

Inside, he was immediately seated and she explained to the barber what she wanted done to his hair.

"Maybe you could cut it this short, with the hair from his back close cut to his head. And then do something to style it a little."

Frank nodded and started cutting the brown locks. She could see Jason frowning and stiffening up, and she just had the horrible vision of Jason grabbing the scissors and stabbing Frank through the throat with it.

But he didn't do anything so she relaxed a little, watching as Frank finished up. When he was all done, Jason had his hair cut really short in the back, with his hair growing slightly longer as it neared the front of his face. Leaving some of Jason's front hair hanging in front of his face, brushing over his eyes and midway to his cheeks, Frank slicked the rest back.

"Looks good," she gave a strained smile.

She quickly paid for the haircut, and nearly dragged Jason away.

After that, they quickly got his clothing and stuffed them into the small compartment hidden in her seat. The last thing was groceries, and she hoped Nancy and Kent had the sidecar that she could attach and put the groceries in. She'd always left it there just so she could easily put in her groceries and bring them home.

Jason actually wheeled the cart for her and she went along, shopping and shoving things into the cart.

"Mmm, look at that chick right there. Hey, Honey. Ditch the giant and come with us!" some asshole yelled from behind them.

Blake ignored him, having a feeling that he was indeed talking to her. She reached for a gallon of milk when the guy knocked it out of her hands and it fell to the ground, splattering all over the floor and making a mess.

All of a sudden, Jason grabbed the guy by the throat and slammed him against the fridge door, choking him.

"Ja –Jed!" she changed his name at the last second. She grabbed onto Jason's arm, slowly able to pull him away. Finally, Jason abruptly let go, letting the guy drop to the ground in a heap, wheezing and soaking up the milk that had spilled.

She quickly grabbed another container of milk and put it into the cart, pulling Jason away.

* * *

"You can't just do that, um okay, Jason?"

Jason didn't answer her, like usual. He just stared stoically at her so she resigned herself to sighing and fixing up dinner.

"Do you eat?" she asked again.

Another stare.

Damn it, she may be afraid of him but sooner or later she was going to accidentally lose it and get frustrated.

But then he stepped closer to her, making her stiffen up as he invaded her personal space.

"J-Jason, I-I need some space," she muttered uncomfortably.

"…"

But he bent down and leaned close, and she could feel the skin of his face brush up against hers as he inhaled her scent in deeply. His skin actually felt soft…She didn't expect it to.

Was a killer's skin supposed to be soft?

And while he had smelled her, she had accidentally inhaled and smelled him as well, blushing when she recognized the lavender smell of her shampoo and body wash on him. Besides that, he smelled _good_…

Was a killer supposed to _smell_ good?

She shivered as he stepped back and she could've s_worn_ a smirk briefly flitted across his lips, though it was gone as soon as she'd glimpsed it.

A killer wasn't supposed to feel soft or smell good or-or look so _divine_…But then again, Jason hadn't. Not until whatever voodoo he'd done (for whatever purpose), where he'd miraculously became a new human being. This was not the Jason everyone knew or expected. He could walk around like any other regular serial sociopathic killer, and not be bothered because he looked mostly like everyone else.

Gone was the monster Jason everyone warned you about and to run from. Now Jason looked like a human being and Blake had a feeling that made him a more dangerous killer.

You couldn't differentiate him from everyone else any more.

Feeling herself grow more terrified again, she whirled around and started on dinner once more. She started cutting up onions for the soup she was making, when she accidentally cut herself. She stilled and glanced nervously behind her, seeing Jason watching her eerily.

She became even more freaked out when he came closer at the sight of her bleeding finger, strangely grabbing it tenderly and she watched him in horrified fascination as he brought it to his mouth and delicately sucked on the wound, wrapping his soft lips (he's not supposed to be _soft_) around it and suckled, staring at her all the while with an unblinking blue eye.

She gulped.

When he finally pulled away, she washed her hands, put on a bandaid, and went back to fixing dinner with a new fervor.

She sat down at the table and watched as he took the seat opposite her on the other end. He stared and she refrained from huffing, feeling crazy enough that she would accidentally scowl and become frustrated with him.

"So…how long are you staying here for?"

He shrugged, and while she was surprised that he'd answered at all, she felt weirded out that he'd answered like that. It made him too normal.

"Okay then, how old are you?" she asked for a lack of topic.

He traced a number in the air almost in boredom and she was the one staring at him this time.

"Y-You're 62?"

He huffed, but held up a finger, then pointed at himself and then traced another number in the air.

"But just think of you like you're in your 30s?"

He nodded.

Jason didn't look freakin' 62, he looked like he'd said –in his 30s or in his late 20s.

"Why? Why do you look _young?_"

He took her off guard when took a butter knife off the table and dug it into his skin, freaking her out. Then she watched in fascination as it healed instantly.

"You heal fast?"

Jason looked at her as if saying "And?"

"You regenerate?"

Another nod to confirm her answer.

Well, hell. That answered quite a bit about him. Why he never seemed to be able to die, why he kept coming back, why nothing fazed him…

She'd heard all the rumors, and of course that he'd plagued the survivors of his attacks, even though he was supposed to have died after each time.

Blake could understand _that_ problem at least.

She went to sleep early that night, unable to fully process any more eventful happenings and dumps of information.

However, Jason had other plans. Checking in once on her, he was about to leave out the door when Henrietta came trotting up to him, tilting her head in question.

Smart fox.

He sat on his haunches, petting her, before looking at her with a stoic gaze and putting a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. Then he turned and closed the door, Blake's stolen motocycle keys in hand and money he'd stolen earlier from the same people he'd originally stolen clothes from.

Easily hiking a leg over to the other side, he kicked back the kickstand and started the engine. He drove off, back to town and straight to his destination. The bookstore was dimly lit and small, but there were large book shelves filled with books all over.

Jason wasn't stupid. Far from it, he was actually intelligent. Maybe a little too much –after all, it helped him set up dangerous traps and to stalk his prey in an almost cruelly teasing manner. And it was frankly annoying and frustrating having to communicate with the girl by having her interpret everything he did. So while he understood things…he'd have to relearn how to speak and communicate again.

The time said he had 10 minutes left until the bookstore closed, but with his intimidating height and look Jason could probably get away with scaring them to close after he was done. He entered, still wearing a stoic look on his face and his mouth set in a neutral line. The girl attending the counter smiled nervously at him, though she did chance a lookover.

He refrained from smashing her head against the wall.

Jason strolled through the aisles like any other person would, grabbing books and stacking them into his arms. And when he went out, he forced himself to ignore and walk pass a group of shits that were messing around, packing his books into the compartment of the bike and drove off.

At least though idiots didn't try to steal the bike. Then he would have killed them and he just knew that would've caused a panic in the town.

That would ruin all his plans.

Started 8/29/09 –Completed 12/14/09


End file.
